If Only

Only truth I have is this- I’m an addict.

Like you know, when you’re drivin’

Times racin’ and the chasin’

Or the rush of rebellion and the conversation

So where do I go when my darkest days feel like home?

Because all I got is this teal and white pack

But even death awaits in that.

Wanna quit but my minds not havin’ it

Don’t know if it’s the stress or the social aspect

I’m feelin’ sad for no apparent reason

Emotions contrasting like the four seasons

I keep making the wrong decisions and all I get out of it is heavy self-criticism

But there’s somethin’ on my mind that I hope will heal in time.

When I took someone’s life, even if it was a life that was jeopardized.

There was a risk of illness, but "I" was the illest

That day haunts my dreams,

Corrupts my days

Makes my head turn all types of ways

The only thing that could kill me now,

Is having a repeat of those dreadful couple hours.

I remember the sound

The humming of the vessel, and the suction sounds

Like water being sucked out of the ground.

I can feel the scissors cut into the dotted lines

Nipping at the walls my soul so clearly defined,

And as the days grow older and my warm nights get colder

As the guilt gains weight on my shoulders, I can’t help but wonder.

 Was it a son or a daughter?

To this day I can’t say the word, dancing around the term with some more comfortable terms

Rearranging the letters to spell misery,

And looking at myself like I’m the enemy.

I could go on for days, explaining my feeling some type of way

But the lines would take up so many pages

Still it wouldn’t put an end to the internal war that wages.

Another thought that won’t let me sleep,

What did I do to the man that loves me?

Did I corrupt his dreams, does he think that I did this selfishly?

Does he endure the agony, does he still want me?

The only salvation I have, I’d say he’s my other half

I’m not 50% myself so he’ll be my 75% gateway out of hell.

I’m down to 25, because deep down inside, I wish my baby could have stayed alive

I wish it would’ve been healthy, I wish I could’ve been wealthy.

So I wouldn’t have to sit here and cry

I wouldn’t have to feel so not alive.

It’s all catching up with me

That sense of false relief has long passed,

And now all that’s left is a bunch of questions that shouldn’t be asked.

Questions that can’t be answered, questions that sever.

Questions that bring nothing but bad weather.

So I’ll adapt to a new environment

Wishing those needs could’ve been met

And while I keep my mouth shut, everyone sees my happy front

And hopefully no one will find out

That I’m nothing but a pitfall of regret and doubt…